


A Song of Arrows and Lightning

by wait_shesaid_what



Category: Arrow (TV 2012), DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV), Supergirl (TV 2015), The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Arranged Marriage, Inspired by Game of Thrones, It's basically Game of Thrones, King's Landing, Kings & Queens, Knights - Freeform, Multi, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Slow Burn, Storm's End, The Eyrie, Westeros, only with less death and rape, past Sara Lance/ Nyssa al Ghul
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-14
Updated: 2017-04-30
Packaged: 2018-08-31 02:18:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,062
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8559487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wait_shesaid_what/pseuds/wait_shesaid_what
Summary: The King falls for a commoner and the future Lord of The Stormlands courts a bastard. A Lady in The Reach ponders her future as The Lord of The Eyrie fears for his. The Lord of Casterly Rock plots with lords in Dorne and The North. This is Westeros and the game of thrones has begun.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Hey y'all! This has been brewing inside my head for awhile now so I hope you enjoy it! For those of you waiting for a new chapter of Light in the Man it is coming soon I promise!

_The Crownlands_

 

The Royal Family had held power as long as anyone could remember. So long that the name of their House was long forgotten, not that it mattered. What use did they have for a name? They were the kings on The Iron Throne.

 

One of those kings was King Robert.

 

Robert was as loved as he was feared by the people. His Hand of the King was the wealthy Malcolm Merlyn, Lord of Casterly Rock and Warden of the West. The rest of his small council was made up of a highborn lord from each of the other seven kingdoms. All of whom were loyal to The King. The realm had never been more secure.

 

It was at this time that The King found a Queen in Lady Moira Dearden, the eldest daughter of the Lord of High Tower. The people quickly fell in love with their new Queen. The poor were grateful for her generous charities. The women admired her sense a fashion. The men fell in love with her beauty. King Robert truly had made a good choice.

 

This was only further confirmed when Queen Moira fell with child in less than a year and delivered a baby boy. A prince and heir to the throne. He was named Oliver. Of course offers of betrothals were received right away, however the King never accepted any of them for reasons unknown.

 

As the sole heir, he was carefully watched from the moment he was born. He was given limited interaction with most other children, except Thomas Merlyn, son of The Hand. The two quickly became inseparable. They were schooled together, trained together and when the time came. Knighted together.

 

All was well.

 

Until it King Robert dead in his private chambers.

 

No smiles were to be seen as Prince Oliver was named King Oliver, First of His Name at the age of sixteen.

 

Thomas Merlyn was immediately named the new Hand of The King. Dowager Queen Moira was wedded to Lord Merlyn less than a month after the late king’s death when she found to be with child by the late king’s. The Princess Thea was born without ever knowing her father and raised in the west. Several lords were put off by The Merlyn’s having so much influence on the new king, but there was one thing that has disturbed them even more…

 

Two years later King Oliver has yet to marry.

 

_The Stormlands_

 

If there was one thing that anyone in Storm’s End could have told you it would have been this. Lord Henry Allen and Lady Nora had been very much in love.

 

Henry had several betrothals broken during the years before he succeeded his father. Since he had a reputation for participating in every tourney he could get to, some feared that he would die without issue. This would leave his deceitful cousin Eobard Thawne as the next Lord of The Stormlands.

 

So, perhaps it was a jest from the gods that the young lord would win the first tourney that Lady Nora of Mistwood ever attended. It had such a romantic moment when he named her his Queen of Love and Beauty that it would be a focus for singers many moon turns after their wedding even. Songs about how the young couple’s love brought grace to the storm weathered lands were sung throughout the seven kingdoms.

 

A couple years into the marriage, not long after Henry became Lord of Storm’s End, Nora gave birth to a son named Bartholomew. He was remarkable from the start. It was said that his first steps had not ungainly like most babes, but that the young boy immediately started to run. A sign of greatness for sure. He was sent to be fostered with House West of The Crag at the age of ten and was taken as a squire by their lord a few years later.

 

House Allen’s future seemed bright.

 

However, rumours grew that Henry was disappointed by the fact that Nora was unable to provide any more children, mayhaps even angry. Once, The Lady of Storm’s End was found crying in her chambers after the servants had heard yelling between the two. Soon after that, when Bartholomew returned home for a visit he and his father went out hunting while Lady Allen remained at the keep. Upon their return they were horrified to find her stabbed to death.

 

Inquiries were made and the killer was found to be a rogue guard, but as ugly rumors spread throughout The Stormlands. It became widely believed that Lord Allen had his wife murdered while he occupied their son. Nonetheless, the guard was curiously executed before suspicions could be either confirmed or denied.

 

The following year saw Bartholomew knighted at the age of six and ten. 

 

He has become known as the fastest knight to ever live.


	2. Sara I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A canary returns home. Sisters are reunited. Plans are made.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright so I'm playing with everyone's age so if t ever get's confusing just ask me. For now, here are the Canary Sisters ages.  
> Sara: 16  
> Laurel: 18
> 
> Good? Good.

_How can I hate returning to a place that I love so much?_ Thought Sara as the wheelhouse continued its climb up Giant’s Lance. Every now and then the cabin would shake violently causing her to groan. The lady would have much preferred to be riding her horse up the mountain.. She also would have preferred not returning home at all. No, she prefered to stay in Dorne where she was more free then she had ever been in The Vale.   
True she had always would love the place of her birth and had longed to return to visit from her fostering with House al Ghul. However, this was not how she pictured her homecoming. Dragged across kingdoms by force before she could further ‘disgrace her family’ as father’s letter put it. As if he hadn’t doe the same.  
“M’lady? We here.” One of her escorts voiced. Sara closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She pictured the garden she and Laurel used to play in as their mother watched from her chambers. Pictured the courtyard where she watched boys practice their swordplay. The High Hall where lords and ladies across The Vale gathered to see her off before she left for Dorne oh so long ago.   
After five years, Lady Sara Lance of The Eyrie was home.   
She opened her eyes and stepped out of the wheelhouse.  
“Sara.”   
There was a woman in front of her.  
If she were known for such things Sara would have started to cry at that moment. In front of her was the one person that made leaving Dorne worth it. Her hands clasped in front of her. _As proper as ever._  
She walked up to the woman born two years before her. She threw her arms around her sister and the two embraced.  
“Laurel.” she breathed. And for a moment, Sara was glad to be home.

 

*******

 

_It is as if nothing has changed at all._ Sara noted as she walked with her sister. It was as if she never left. The light same windows still hit the same walls that still bore House Lance’s sigil. Two canaries, one white and one black, flying away from each other on a field of dark grey. Her sister was the same as well. The perfect image of a lady from her hair to her dress. Chatting about meager things Sara half paid attention to as they strolled through the halls of their home.  
“So what was Dorne like?” queried Laurel, stopping Sara dead in her tracks. “I read all of your letters, but there must be so much you left out! Is it true about how they treat bastards? Are they really treated as if they’re trueborn?”  
“In some cases, yes.” She nodded coldly with a heart beginning to ache. _Do not think of Nyssa. Do not think of Nyssa._ “If it’s alright, I’d rather not talk about Dorne.”  
“Well alright then, how was your journey?” She asked, nudging them on as they neared their respective chambers.   
“Long and Terrible.” Sara muttered thinking of her wooden cage of a wheelhouse.   
“Oh, come now Sara.” Laurel rolled her eyes at her sister’s antics. “It couldn’t have been all bad, could it?”  
“Well I admit it would have been better without an armed escort sent by our _honorable_ lord father.” She shot back as they came to a stand in front of Laurel’s rooms.   
“Our father _is_ honorable Sara. They were sent for your protection. You know that.” Her sister chastised. She sounded reminiscent of their lady mother. Sara felt anger rise in her.  
“Honor wasn’t enough to make mother stay.” She spat venomously.  
“Sara!” Laurel gasped as she looked around for anyone who might have heard them. Not that there would be given her father’s dismissal of most of the servants due to ‘lack of funds’.  
“What?” She shrugged, not sorry in the least. “It’s true.”   
“You mustn’t speak like that!” Laurel shook her head. “If you are to be a proper lady-”  
“Damn proprietary! I do not want to be a lady! So, I’ll speak how I want about the man that let mother run away! You can’t-” Before she could finish Laurel had grabbed her arm.  
“Shush!”  
“Don’t tell me to-” Sara was caught off again by Laurel slapping her hand over her mouth.  
“Listen. There’s something of great importance I must discuss with you.” Her elder sister was whispering now. “It’s about my engagement.”  
 _Engagement?_ For as long as she could recall, Laurel had been betrothed to Thomas Merlyn of Casterly Rock. Did something happen? Now that they were both of age the wedding should take place within the year. Perhaps he needed to set her aside due to his duties as Hand of King? It was very unusual to break betrothals between Great Houses, but not unheard of in history. Unfortunately, before Laurel could elaborate the two sisters were interrupted once more.  
“M’ladies!” a knight with dark hair that Sara did not recognised ran down the hall towards them.  
“What is it Ser Dante?” Laurel looked annoyed. The knight bowed clumsily when he reached the two sisters. He was clearly out of breath.  
“Your lord father would like to see you.” Ser Dante glanced at Sara. “Both of you.”  
The girls exchanged looks and, without speaking, agreed that this could not be good.

 

*******

 

When Sara had first arrived in Sunspear, the heat had been unbearable. She could barely leave her rooms, but then, within a few months of her arrival, winter descended upon Westeros. It never snowed in Dorne, or get as cold as it must have been in The North. It did get much colder though, leaving Sara to finally be free to roam around. By the time spring came last year, Sara was able to become accustomed to sun beating down on her.   
Now though, she was cold. She had been so happy and preoccupied with Laurel that she had not noticed. But now, as she and her sister slowly made their way to see their father, Sara found herself wishing she had brought a cloak.  
Soon enough, they stood in front of the door to their father’s chambers. With a hesitant glance at Sara, Laurel gently knocked.  
“Enter.” A gruff voice called out.   
The door had a creak when it opened that caused a shiver to go down her spine.   
When Sara had been called to go home she hoped that Defender of the Vale would avoid any contact with her until he found a suitor he could marry her off to. She was not expecting to see him within hours of her return. She was not prepared to face him. Not after mother. Not after Nyssa.   
Still as she followed Laurel into the room, there was a small part of Sara that had longed to see her father again. She need not no longer though.  
“Father.” Sara whispered at the sight of him. He stood in front his two daughters, now looking as if he had aged twice as many years that she had been gone. His hair was thinner. The dark circles under his eyes were more prominent.  
 _But it’s still him._ He still looked at her with so much emotion, even if it was mostly sadness now. For the second time that day, Sara felt tears spring to her eyes.  
“Sara.” He acknowledged with a nod of the head. “Welcome home. I regret that I was unable to meet you when you first arrived, but I had duties elsewhere.” There was something unspoken in those words. Something Sara could not quite grasp.  
“I understand, Father.” she replied anyway. Silence followed until Laurel cleared her throat.  
“Is there something you wish to discuss with us father? Ser Dante said you wanted to see both of us.”  
“Aye.” He shifted on his feet and glanced about the room before he looked at Laurel. “I received a raven from Lord Hunter the other day. He is holding a tourney at Riverrun in celebration of his son’s first name day. Half of Westeros will be there. I wanted to inform you that you will be attending in order to meet The Hand, your intended.”  
 _So Laurel is still engaged to Merlyn._ Sara studied her sister. She did not seemed surprised. _She knew._ She realised. _She already knew about the tourney._  
“A tourney? How wonderful!” She exclaimed with excitement, however to Sara it sounded fake, rehearsed even. “Will Sara be joining us as well?”  
“Of course. As I said, it will be quite the event. The King himself is expected to be there.” Laurel smiled genuinely then, but at that point Sara had diverted her attention to their father.  
“Really? I am to go as well?” Because surely she had just heard him wrong. She had just returned home after all. And surely he did not want her with for such an important moment for Laurel and The Vale..  
“Unless you can think of a reason you should not.” Father said pointedly. And this time, Sara understood what hee was not saying. He wanted to go on as if Dorne had never happened. As if he didn’t know about her and Nyssa. She didn’t know whether to be hurt or relieved. Nonetheless, she shook her head.  
“Good, we shall be departing in a moon’s turn, so I suggest you both start packing straight away.” And with that he dismissed them.

 

*******

 

“I think that went rather well, don’t you?” Laurel said as she dragged her sister into her chambers. Papers and books were littered through the room. The chair by the fireplace held an abandoned embroiderment project. Clearly, something had been occupying her sister’s mind.  
“Laurel.” She hoped she sounded as authoritative as possible. “What is going on?”  
“Nothing.” The older Lance sister was not the least bit convincing. Sara crossed her arms and glared.  
“You said you wanted to talk to me about your betrothal, remember?” Laurel nodded sheepishly. “Then talk to me! Gods, Laurel we’re finally together again! We should be doing nothing but talking!”  
“I do not want to marry Thomas Merlyn,” she sighed. “Because I want to marry King Oliver.”  
“What?!” Sara couldn’t help but shout.  
“Shhh! Sara!” Hushed Laurel. “I know this must be shocking, but I’m in love with The King.”  
“In love with him?” Sara shook her head in disbelief. “You haven’t even met him!”  
“I don’t have to meet him! I already know he is handsome and brave and honourable.” A dreamy smile appeared on Laurel’s face. “He hasn’t married yet and he will need a highborn bride. Why not me?”   
“Oh, Laurel. That’s complete fantasy and you know it!”   
“It is not!” Laurel declared defensively. “Please try to understand! You are my sister. My most trusted confidant. You are the only one who can help me! Everytime I hear or think about The King my heart aches! Do you have any idea how that feels?”   
_Nyssa._  
“Yes, I do.” Sara whispered. Laurel tilted her head at her sister as if to ask what that meant, but Sara said nothing more. So, Laurel took a seat at the foot of her bed before continuing.   
“I know this is a lot to dump on you when you’ve only just got here, but there is something I must ask of you.” She began hesitantly. Sara walked over and took a seat next to her, indicating for her to continue. “I first learned of the tourney from Maester Nudocerdo, since it was being held by the lord of a Great House, I knew The King would be in attendance. I know this will be my only chance to make him fall for me. I have already ordered new dresses for the both of us.”  
“Both of us?” Sara was not sure she liked where this was going.  
“Father may not show it, but he is deeply concerned about the future of The Vale. He has only two daughters and no sons. His wife ran away so The Faith will not let him remarry. The betrothal contract between Houses Lance and Merlyn stated that my second born son will inherit Father’s position. If I become Queen this will not change. However, The Vale and Father _needs_ the alliance marriage between two Great Houses brings...”  
 _Oh._ Sara was not liking this at all.  
“If I marry King Oliver, you must marry Thomas Merlyn.” Laurel stated solemnly.  
“Laurel, I-I.”   
“I know I have no right to ask this of you.” Laurel took her sister’s hands. “If you don’t want to do this, I will swallow my pride and marry him myself, but I beg you please take time and consider it.”  
Sara looked away from her sister, deep in thought. She knew there would come a day their father would marry her to a lord, but she did not expect a choice in the matter. That was what Laurel was giving her. The power to choose.  
Sara thought of Nyssa, whom she would likely never see again. Of her mother, who had been a key role in arranging Laurel’s betrothal in the first place. If the gods had any mercy on her, she would not see her mother again either. The loving father Sara had known growing up was out reach.   
Truly, Laurel was all she had. If Laurel married Thomas, Sara would be married to some Lord here in The Vale. It would be near impossible for them to see each other after that. However, if Laurel married The King and Sara married Thomas, The Hand of The King, they would both live in King’s Landing together.  
“I don’t need time.” Sara turned back to her sister. “I’ll do it.” Laurel smiled brightly and pulled her sister into a hug, causing Sara to smile as well.   
The King would love Laurel. How could he not?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hmmm.....What a nice plan Laurel has there....it would be a shame if.....it completely backfired.....
> 
> I was wondering if any of you had thoughts on what the House Words would be be for Houses Lance, Allen, etc. I have ideas for practically everyone, but when it comes to their mottoes I'm drawing a blank (That's probably the lack of sleeps fault though) Any thoughts?


	3. Oliver I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Lords of the Crownlands quarrel while The King's mind remains preoccupied.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What??? I'm updating?? Is this a dream?

Oliver I

The early summer sun was shining hot in King’s Landing. It was the kind of day where you could find noble and wealthy families taking their children to play in the sparkling rivers just outside the city walls, just as Oliver and Tommy had when they were boys. There were days his mother would even come along and watch them jump off the rocks with a fond smile on her face. 

His father though, never joined them. 

He was busy, Oliver’s mother would say, but Oliver never understood that. His father was King. Surely he could spare a few hours with his wife and son.

Now however, Oliver was King. And as he looked on as the lords at the table argued it was easy to forgive his father.

It had been a long day. He had already heard the grievances of the people in the city when he held court earlier . By the time they were finished, half the day was gone. Yet, his lords had insisted they discuss the upcoming tourney being held in Riverrun. Oliver had mistakenly assumed it would only take a couple hours. Instead they had been here for four and were nowhere near deciding on whether he would actually _go_.

“My lords,” He pleaded rubbing his temples, thoroughly annoyed with men seated around him. “I fail to see why attending a tourney is cause for so much controversy.”

“With all due respect Your Grace.” The Lord of Duskendale began in voice that had no respect what so ever. “ _We_ fail to see why you do not.”

“House Hunter has presided over the Riverlands as long as my family has held the Iron Throne. Lord Hunter was one the first lords to swear fealty to me. Are you suggesting that I slight him by not attending the celebration of his heir’s health?” Their King asked, anger beginning to seep through his words.

“I think what Lord Duskendale is try to say is that since The Hand is also attending that we are leaving capital to fend for itself.” Lord Diggle of Rosby voiced. A majority of the nobles made noises of agreement. 

“I see.” Oliver mused. “Tell me, Lord Diggle, will you be attending the tournament?”

“No, Your Grace.” He replied. “I admit, I had not planned on it.”

“Wonderful. Then you shall be in charge while we are gone.” Oliver declared. The lords looked at him incredulously. “What? Have I misspoken?”

“Your Grace,” another lord, Lord Hunt, spoke up. _Seven help me._ “It’s just that you would have leave within the next few days in order to arrive, which is by far not enough time to-”

“Enough!” shouted Tommy, clearly as fed up as Oliver was. “We’ve been at this for hours! If your King wishes to go, then he shall. Besides, half the nobility in Westeros will be there. No doubt they’ll bring their daughters as well.”

The Lords of The Crownlands exchanged looks and Oliver smiled. Tommy, for all his faults, knew these men and what they wanted. It was what made him a good Hand of The King. And despite what many thought though, Oliver was not oblivious to fact that the lords were getting desperate for him to marry.

Early on, they would practically shove their daughters at him when he held court or when there was a feast. Lord Hunt had even proposed his daughter, who was eleven at the time, to wed The King. It was nauseating.

Now, however the lords would have him make a queen of just about anyone. Which is exactly what Oliver wanted.

“Thank you for your imput, My Lords” He said standing up. “You are dismissed.”  
One bye one the lord's bowed and took their leave. Oliver could see several were less than pleased with the outcome, but The King could not care less at this point. Eventually, he was left in the room with only Tommy, Lord Diggle and Ser Rob Scott who was Lord Commander of his Kingsguard.

“Well that could have gone better.” Tommy sighed and put his feet on the table. “And shorter.”

“That’s what you two get for doing away with the Small Council.” grumbled Diggle. “I thank you, Your Grace, for the honor of looking after King's Landing in your stead.”

“There’s no one I would trust more.” Oliver said solemnly, because it was true. Growing up, John Diggle was an idol to the young Prince. Knighted at the young age of five and ten years along with his brother Andrew. He became a Lord not long after that, and helped Oliver’s father in squashing two minor rebellions, one in The North, the other in Dorne. The second of which resulted in Ser Andrew Diggle’s death. Oliver liked to believe that John started to think of himself as brother after that. 

A few years past, Oliver became King and Lord Diggle was one of the few people that he truly trusted. 

“I still think this is terrible idea.” Of course, John was also one of the few that could speak frankly to him without consequence.

“Agreed.” voiced Tommy. “You just had me lie to several of the most important men in the Seven Kingdoms!”

Oliver sighed. _Gods, will this day ever end?_

“I know you both have your hesitations. Which is why I’m making this trip in the first place.” He began. “And you didn’t lie, there will be several unmarried highborn ladies at the tourney.”

“But you have no intention on marrying any of them!” Tommy shot back. Oliver glared darkly at his friend.

“Shut up, you fool! You want the entire Red Keep to hear?” Diggle glanced at Oliver and then at Ser Rob, who looked very uneasy.

“You may retire for the evening, Ser.” Oliver said sternly. The knight looked like he wanted to protest. To say that the king always dismissed him too early in the evening. That he always disappeared for hours at a time. However, Ser Rob was not an idiot and could tell that his king was in no mood to argue. So, he bowed and left the room.

“Sorry.” Tommy mumbled.

“No need.” Oliver squeezed the bridge of his nose in attempt to get rid of his aching head. “I know you have own apprehensions about Riverrun’s Tourney.”

“Ah. That’s right, you’re meeting betrothed.” Lord Diggle mused. Tommy flushed red. “Are you worried she’ll be ugly or something?”

“No!” Tommy said quick to his own defense. “It’s not that, I just want things to go well. My mother sent raven after raven to Lord Lance and his Lady wife to secure this betrothal. And, when he finally agreed she made me promise her to be good husband to Lady Laurel. What if I let her down?”

“You’re scared of marriage.” Diggle shook his head, but had a smile on his face. “Both of you are.”

Oliver stilled.

“Don’t try and deny it Oliver.” John was looking him in the eye now. “You’re King. If you were ready to marry this girl you’d have done it by now. That’s what visiting the tourney is about. You’re buying your time.”

“It’s not that simple.” The young king remarked, shaking his head. Lord Diggle regarded him a moment before resting a hand on his shoulder.

“Your Grace. I know you love her. I know that you want her to be your queen, but you’re scared about how things will change once that happens.”

 

*******

It was long dark by the time Oliver had made it to the godswood. The sweltering heat of the day had given way to a pleasantly warm night, for which Oliver was grateful. However, it was dark. 

_It would be easy to get lost on a night like this_ Oliver thought absently. He did not worry though. He knew this path like he knew all the names of the noble families in Westeros. 

As he approached the heart tree he could make out the light of a small candle and the figure perched next to it on the bench. 

“I was worried you’d have gone to bed by now.” He called quietly. The figure jumped a bit at the sound of his voice, but relaxed when he came into view.

“I was worried you weren’t coming.” Her voice shot back. Oliver laughed tiredly as he took Felicity into his arms.  
“I’m sorry. The lords couldn’t agree on anything today.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead and she made a small humming sound.

“Seems like they can’t agree on anything most days.” she said lightheartedly, but he knew his Felicity and he didn’t miss the slight frustration in her voice. He understood. After all, she was right. His duties kept them apart most days. Other days Felicity had to help her mother run the inn her father had left them when he disappeared. Nights like these have become the only times they can see each other. 

That’s why everything at Riverrun has to go perfect.

Once he presents Felicity to his mother, Oliver will make his announcement to all present at the Tourney of his intent to marry her and make her his queen. But then John Diggle’s words come back to him.

_You’re scared about how things will change once that happens._ And he is. He’s terrified of what the lords might say or do. Terrified that they’ll try and hurt Felicity. 

“Oliver?” she says quietly, pulling him from his dark thoughts. “Are you alright? You’ve been silent awhile. Which I suppose makes sense because you’re probably tired. I’m kinda tired to, but you are most likely more so than-”

“ _Felicity._ ” He says simply, interrupting her babble. “I’m fine. Now tell me about your day.”

The faint light of her candle allowed Oliver to see her smile up at him. He grinned back. As scared as he may be, he would risk anything to see that smile for the rest of him life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait! Please keep commenting and leaving kudos!


	4. Caitlin I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Canary takes a bastard for a walk that ends in disaster,

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Buckle your seat-belts ladies and gents it's going to be a bumpy ride.

Caitlin Snow could not believe it when Lady Laurel asked for her to accompany her and her sister to Riverrun. True, she had been in The Vale a year now and had faithfully served her lady the whole while, Caitlin could still not comprehend it. Why would anyone want to be seen with _her_. Afterall, she was a Snow. A bastard from The North. And not just any bastard, she was the baseborn child of Lord Tannhauser’s youngest of five daughters.

Ten years earlier that would not mean as much. Ten years earlier Tannhauser was a large and powerful house that had presided over The North as long as anyone could remember. Ten years earlier Caitlin’s father had been alive and well, her mother was warm and kind and Caitlin had no idea what the word “bastard” even met. The first six years of her life had been blissful and she was a fool to ever think they could remain so.

When Lord Tannhauser rebelled against King Robert it had marked the beginning of the end of any happiness Caitlin had. Not long after her grandfather had denounced The King, her father fell ill and died. The Northern rebellion was quickly squashed and the Tannhauser’s were deposed. Caitlin’s mother became cold at the loss of her love and as soon as Caitlin was old enough she was sent off to The Vale to serve as Lady Laurel Lance’s handmaiden.

“Are you alright, Caitlin?” Lady Sara asked suddenly, making Caitlin jump. She had been lost in thought while she worked on her embroidery project that she hadn’t noticed her enter the tent Caitlin and other female servants of House Lance were using in Riverrun.

“Yes, I am. Just lost in thought.” Caitlin liked Lady Sara. Not that she didn’t like Lady Laurel, but Sara was a good kind off different than her sister. The kind that would talk to a bastard without talking down to them. “Is there something I can do for you Lady Sara?”

“It seems my sister is too busy getting ready for The King and The Hand’s arrival tonight, so I wondered if you would mind walking with me to see some of knights?” 

 

*******

 

“Do you know which house that is?” Lady Sara pointed at the red symbol on the blue field. Since Caitlin had lived in The North and been through the northern Riverlands on her way to The Vale and Sara had traveled in the southern regions of Westeros the two girls had spent their time figuring out which banners belonged to which house.

“Yes, I do…” Caitlin trailed off as she studied the banner, trying to place it. “Got it! It belongs to House Palmer of the Crossing”

“Oh! Of course! I should have known that. You know they say Lord Palmer is the third richest man in The Seven Kingdoms.”

“And one of the most handsome.” Caitlin said teasingly. Lady Sara scrunched her nose and stuck her tongue out at her.

_This is nice._ Caitlin thought absently. It had been years, she realized, since she had anything close to a friend. Even she couldn’t quite call Lady Sara a friend, yet they were definitely friendly. _But do not forget._ a dark voice said. _You are a bastard and she is a lady of Great House._

Caitlin shook her head in attempt to stop those thoughts. They were having a pleasant time, she might as well enjoy it while she can.

“Alright.” Sara said, completely unaware. “How about that one.” Caitlin held her hand up to eyes to see where the younger Lady Lance was pointing. 

Her blood ran cold.

A blue snowflake on a white field.

Once, it had belonged to House Tannhauser, but after they were deposed it was given away to the new Wardens of The North.

“It belongs to House Snart.” a voice drawled from behind them. “My house.”

Sara and Caitlin spun around to see a tall boy with short dark hair and icey blue eyes. He was wearing armour that was littered with snowflakes for decoration. Caitlin knew exactly who this was. Worse, he knew who she was. 

“Leonard Snart.” he said curtly, giving a mock bow. “Heir of Winterfell.”

“M-m’lord,” Caitlin stuttered. “I’m sorry. We didn’t see you there.”

“Obviously, _Snow_.”

“Sara Lance.” Sara said speaking up, stepping in front of Caitlin ever so slightly. “Heir of nothing.”

His eyebrows shot up at her bluntness. They seemed to stare each other down for a moment. Daring the other to say more. Caitlin wished she could just disappear.

“Snart?” a new voice called. “You aren’t harassing these ladies are you?”

“No, Allen.” Snart rolled his eyes. A knight their age made his way towards the three of them. Once more, Caitlin found herself regretting joining Lady Sara on her walk. Standing before her now was Ser Bartholomew Allen. _Another_ heir to a Great House.

“Really?” He said, looking at Snart with doubt and then turned his attention to Sara and herself. “Are you two alright?”

Now, _Lady Sara_ rolled her eyes. Caitlin, however, could do nothing but blush in shame. 

“Out the way!” Someone yelled out of nowhere.

“Run! Run!” Another person screamed as the sound of galloping horses approached the four. 

Suddenly Caitlin was lifted off her feet by two rough arms. She heard Lady Sara call out for her, but she couldn’t see her. She tried to crane her neck to see who had grabbed her, but before she could Caitlin was thrown back to the ground. Her head spun and arms and knees ached from trying catch her fall. She wanted to yell for help, but when she opened her mouth no words came. 

As the world faded to black she felt two arms, different than before, pick her up out of the mud.

 

*******

 

When Caitlin woke up, she found an unfamiliar blonde girl staring down at her.

“She’s awake!” she gasped then turned and yelled. “She’s awake!”

Lady Sara and Ser Bartholomew came rushing into the tent.

“Thank the Gods!” Sara said. She walked over and took Caitlin’s hand. “How are you feeling?”

“Confused.” Caitlin answered groggily “What happened?”

“Non.” muttered the unknown blonde. Sara and Ser Bartholomew shot her a look.

“It all happened so fast.” Lady Sara began shaking her head. “One second you were standing next to me the next some crazed riders grabbed you. Allen over there hopped on a horse and went after you.” 

“When they saw me catching up one of them threw you off his horse.” The young lord blushed, though in guilt or embarrassment, Caitlin could not tell. “You weren’t moving so-”

“So he brought you here while he went to tell Lady Sara.” the blonde said cutting in. “I’m Lady Kara, from the house of El. You are free to rest here tonight. Our maester said you shouldn’t move so much.”

“I’ve already cleared it up with my sister.” Sara stated. Something else worrisome came to Caitlin’s mind though.

“You said something about a Non?”

“Yes.” Lady Kara replied. “I’m almost certain it was Lord Non’s men that did this. They do stuff like this all the time on his land.”

“It doesn’t matter! We can’t prove it and we can’t do anything about it.” Lady Sara said tiredly, though Caitlin had no doubt she was more frustrated than anything. Lords got away with this kinda stuff all time as long as it couldn’t be traced back to them. 

“I suppose I owe you thanks, Ser Bartholomew.” Caitlin said in attempt to change the subject. He seemed to get the idea.

“It was no trouble, though I must insist you call me Barry.” He smiled at her. “I can’t stand the name Bartholomew.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anyone who knows anything about Game of Thrones knows how pleasant walks can take a dark turn fast, but maybe this wasn't all bad huh?

**Author's Note:**

> Input is welcomed and encouraged! Please let me know what you think! As I continue this I will try to listen to your comments and work some of your ideas into the story. Also, keep in mind that I am writing this in my spare time and it may be awhile between updates, but I will do my best.


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